However, he was not going to retreat; he was beginning to feel a keen interest in his own adventures. Opening the second door, which served for models and intimate friends, he took a glance round the court, and, finding it empty, hastily locked his door, and stepped out into the shadow of the trees. He was in luck, for no one was hanging about, and the next minute he was in the street. The plunge gave him, it must be owned, an odd sensation, the more so when he saw that he was only just in time, for Jack was on the other side of the street in the act of crossing, Everitt strode on quickly. He fancied himself the centre of all eyes, but after a time this feeling wore off. The people who glanced at him only saw a model on his way to a studio, a picturesque figure in the midst of unlovely things; the children stared as they would have stared at a man with a monkey, or any other show; there was nothing in him to attract unusual notice. But he felt so unusual himself, that it took him some time to make sure of this. Then, the awkwardness wearing off, his spirits rose. He found the situation amusing. He rather wished to meet some one whom he knew that he might test his disguises to the utmost. It was a beautiful morning, and there was a novelty in the impossibility of shocking probabilities by calling a hansom, which in itself was absolutely exhilarating. When he reached the Hospital his pleasure increased. It was too early in the day for many of the old men to be out sunning themselves, but he became immediately aware of the peaceful and old-world atmosphere which hung about the place. A morning breeze was blowing up the river, and delicate white clouds sailed across the sky. In the midst of its trees lay the Hospital, warm red brick, with white pointings and grey stone pillars, on which the sunshine rested softly mellow; with its broad frontage of green turf, and its iron gates, and its little graveyard, where lie the old heroes waiting for the "last trumpet's sounding." Everitt had not been there for years; it seemed to him almost as if he had never been before--as if all those years he had lost something. When one or two old men, in long blue coats and brass buttons, and broad three-cornered hats, strolled out of the side gates and stared at him, he felt as if the picture were complete, except that he began to hate himself for being the incongruous feature.